All Good Things
by Bellona Carissima
Summary: Modern AU: In which, head of the infamous Donquixote Cartel commences his newest project and gets so much more than what he bargained for. Doflamingo/Oc


A/N: Not really much to say, other than I hope it's interesting. So not really anything on the OC here. I just thought that it would be more like Doffy to have everything planned out, ready to go and the object of his affection (if you could even call it that) be none the wiser. Rated M for language and for the Doflamingo-like things that may or may not occur.

All in all, I just wanted to write something with the trash king in it. So, without further ado...

 **All Good Things**

Despite the mishaps that frequently occurred in his line of work, Doflamingo fancied himself a good businessman. If there was one thing specifically, he considered himself to be a good talker. Hell, he knew he was an expert at it. There was something fascinating to him about how, with the proper ground work having been laid, the human psyche could be dealt cataclysmic damage with a single word.

He had seen it happen.

Different people had different reactions but all in all, the formula is the same. The mouth hangs open, wide eyes. Sometimes there was sweat. Sometimes tears. Red-faced yelling, screaming, pleading. Sweet smiles turned to frowns, grimaces. Adoration warped into vengeful, murderous wrath. Doflamingo took pleasure in discovering the variety of such expressions.

It told him little things about that person's character that he couldn't quite find anywhere else. He enjoyed this pastime of his so much that he devised little games to play whilst bending wills to suit his own. How many words would it take to bring about such a dramatic change in emotion and expression? How long could they last before their face revealed the inner turmoil? How long until he shatters their entire being?

These were the things he considered, the games he played.

* * *

Doflamingo had been working his magic on the man in the pleated white suit seated in front of him for quite a while now. A man of self proclaimed importance. Reynar was his name. Stout, thoroughly bald, and perpetually red in the face. The sight of him in that stark white suit paired with the red on his cheeks reminded him faintly of a soft serve ice cream cone with a cherry on top.

His pudgy face was beaded with sweat and there was a tremble in this hands that could be attributed to a person of a higher caliber staring you down for thirty minutes straight, daring you to make a wrong move. It shouldn't be too long now.

Breathing out a sold and seemingly exasperated sigh, Doflamingo continued to work his magic.

 _Today's game; How far can he be pushed?_

"War is a thing of beauty. There are people out there who truly believe that. Did you know that, Reynar? Tyrants in the making – all of them."

Reynar fidgeted in his seat. Ah, the thought of that little piggy squealing nearly gave him the giggles.

"I suppose there are people who believe all sorts of odd things," he stated with a hard chuckle that came across as jittery and entirely uncomfortable.

Little piggy was being more cautious here, Doflamingo estimated, than the man had ever been in his life. Careful not to offend the head of the infamous Donquixote Cartel in the slightest.

"Odd? You think it's odd to believe such a thing? Someone in your line of work?"

"….I do not like war."

Doflamingo simply could not help himself. He smiled, wide and giddy.

"Tell me, Reynar. Do you think you are a good man? A man of upstanding morals and virtue who helps the poor and downtrodden, the weak and the proud alike without a single shred of discrimination in his blood—do you think you are this man?"

"No."

"Exactly right. A man like that is merely an ideal, Reynar. There are, of course, some people delusional enough to think that they are next coming of Christ but we," he paused to lick his lips, "we…ignore those folk, don't we?"

"Yes."

"And yet, you claim that you don't like war. The mere thought of liking such an atrocious part of human nature turns your stomach, doesn't it?"

"Ah, well, perhaps I misspoke…I-"

" _Doesn't it?_ "

"Yes, I suppose it does."

"Do you like money, Reynar? Do you like power? Women? Men?"

"—Women."

"Then you like war."

The man paused, considering carefully the word of the man in pink.

Without warning Doflamingo jerked forward, slamming his hand down onto the table that stood between them. The poor bastard's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He must have taken a good ten years off of the man's life.

He ground out the final phase of his master plan for maximum emphasis. "And since you like war so much, you _must_ be willing to start one." Reynar opened his mouth to swear up and down that that was the exact opposite of his intentions but Doflamingo didn't give the man any time to speak. "That's what you're doing by refusing to cooperate with us. You are starting a war."

"I-I'll do it. I will. Anything you want, I'll make it happen. I swear on my life."

Doflamingo laughed his signature laugh, grinned his grin, cheery like a kid on Christmas morning. "Is that a deal then?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

 _Game over. Conclusion? Not very fucking far._

"Then, I'll be on my way. I look forward to working with you."

Doflamingo left Reynar's measly excuse of an estate feeling somewhat disappointed.

It took him less time than he thought.

* * *

"Doffy, I'll be honest with you."

"—And you know I love it when you're honest."

"I don't understand what you see in this place."

Doflamingo took a large swig of a fruity looking beverage. It of course had some degree of alcohol in it, he couldn't quite remember what the name was but it wasn't half bad. The restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall type of place, almost impossible to notice on your own unless you know someone. It was small, family owned, by a woman who went by the name Katelyn. The food was damn good, the atmosphere homely and inviting. He didn't care for the décor but then again his taste in things was a tad bit eccentric.

Doflamingo chuckled to himself as if his companion, dare he say _friend_ , had just made an amusing comment. Vergo wasn't necessarily a funny man but such things happened from time to time.

"You will soon."

"Cryptic," Vergo stated, a fork hanging limply between his fingers. An indefinite silence lapsed in which the undercover operative concentrated solely on his meal and Doflamingo on other things.

Specifically, what he liked about the restaurant lied in the live shows. Every first Friday of the month, they hired a musician who was trying to make a name for themselves. It was something Doflamingo could respect; climbing your way up the ever changing ladder of society, aiming for something better than what you have. Every now and again he liked to push one of them off of the ladder just to see what would happen but still, a certain few of such people had his respect.

He had been frequenting this place for a while now, at least a year and none of his executives were the wiser-spare the one sitting directly across from him of course. Apparently the old place had come on tough times as of late. No more hired musicians. Instead, the owner's sister had taken on the job of entertainment.

And _that_ was where the majority of the crime lord's current interest lied.

Vergo eventually broke the silence. "How did, ah, negotiations go today?"

"It didn't take much. We have our new weapons dealer."

"As expected. The slob looked like a walking ice cream sundae stuffed inside that tight ass suit."

"You saw it too? I thought that was just me."

"How long did it take?"

"Fifteen minutes. It was terribly disappointing."

"Ah," a regretful sound escaped from Vergo's throat. "I should've been there. I would've loved to see him break."

"- _Her_."

Vergo cocked his head to the side, puzzled.

"…Reynar wasn't a woman…?"

"No, he wasn't." Doflamingo deadpanned and pointed straight ahead to where a young woman sat at the bar area together with another woman who looked almost twice her age. "But she is."

Vergo followed the finger. "Oh," he said in sudden realization, nodding his head. By no means had it been some time since Doflamingo had last been interested in a woman in a sexual way. In fact, the entire reason the strip club _Dressrosa_ came into existence was purely because of Doffy's interests. A little saying had even developed among some of the veteran whores; If Doflamingo is interested, then so are you.

But ever so often, once in a blue moon, Vergo's leader would seek out a woman for something different than. Perhaps, he wanted someone on his arm for a social event. This time, he could tell, Doffy wanted someone he could play his games with and all Vergo could do was fulfill his boss's wishes and watch him rip apart the girl who caught his eye.

"So are we doing this the legal way or…?"

Doflamingo got a laugh out of that one.

"Now where's the fun in that, Vergo? No, I have a plan and it more than likely isn't legal. I do believe some aspects of it fall under the category of slavery or 'human trafficking' as they say nowadays."

"But she'll be yours."

"That's the plan."

Doflamingo gave the unsuspecting young woman another glance, longer than the last one and decided that he would combine a couple things to create his next game. It would be: How many words? And how long will she last?

He prayed that she wouldn't disappoint.


End file.
